


Promises Kept

by oldmountainsoul



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/F, First Meetings, POV First Person, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmountainsoul/pseuds/oldmountainsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses into Revan's thoughts at moments with Bastila throughout the game. From the prompt "Basorexia (an overwhelming desire to kiss)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises Kept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aodhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aodhan/gifts).



_I wanted to kiss her the moment I saw her._

 My timing wasn’t the best, however, as she was surrounded by a complement of Jedi Masters (which rather ruined the mood for such things) and she was admittedly trying to kill me at the time. I knew who she was, of course. I’d been studying her since the moment I received word of her from my agents. But I pressed. I found something about her compelling, as I rarely did with Jedi and their puppets. 

 I was fascinated, and so I isolated her–her masters were beneath my notice. I would let my acolytes deal with them later. I held them in stasis with a flick of my wrist, and it was almost absurd how little effort it took me to restrain them against the far wall. I let her engage me alone, and my curiosity only grew. 

 I had little time to indulge that curiosity, however when I felt Malak’s intentions. My apprentice would suffer for his betrayal later. I had only a single moment to act and so I put an end to our duel. I used my deactivated saber to summon the lift, and when Malak began his bombardment of my flagship, I pulled her close, throwing the both of us to relative safety of the elevator. 

 An almost deadly mistake on my part, as she neglected to deactivate her own weapon. 

  _Or perhaps she meant to thrust her saber through my chest._

 No. I sensed no malice, no such intent in her. Her goal had never been to kill me, ludicrously. She saved my life after I saved hers, and I awoke in isolation in Republic custody as a prisoner of war. 

  _A shame I never had the chance to kiss her._

 

* * *

 

 

 I felt much the same when I saw her again, with new eyes. The Jedi had tried to erase almost all of what I knew, but even they couldn’t destroy all that I was. They could make me an altruist, make me believe in the fool’s errand that was the Republic, make me someone they thought they could trust, but they couldn’t take away my ambition, my resilience, my impatience. Nor could they take away  _her,_  though it seems such an act would have worked against their purposes.  

 When we met once more, it was again in the heat of battle. She’d overpowered her guards and broken her chains. Slaughtered nearly everyone who had hurt her, to my surprise. Jedi were explicitly  _against_  the idea of vengeance. But Bastila apparently hadn’t heard of that notion, as she scythed through the swarm of gangsters with a righteous fury. I did my best to assist, picking off those on the outskirts who moved in to engage her. I worked my way towards her just as she dispatched the last of Brejik’s minions.  

 She whirled on me, eyes blazing and absolutely furious, her vibroblade at my throat.  

 In hindsight, it was likely the worst time for me to realize that my former commanding officer was absolutely  _gorgeous_. But I was never known for my personal judgement anyways. I started wars simply because I had the power to do so, falling for any woman who held a weapon to my throat was certainly the least of my flaws. I had the strange urge to take her in my arms, to pull her close and kiss her. Something about her was familiar,  _right_ , as if she and I were meant to be here. But acting on such impulses would have taken away any inclination she had  _not_ to stab me, so I pushed such feelings aside. I would deal with them later.

 “And  _you_ , if you think you can  _collect_ me like a–” she spat. “Wait… That’s impossible, it’s  _you_ , how did you possibly… You’re from the  _Endar Spire_.” Bastila finished incredulously, recognition and a hint of disbelief flashing across her face as she lowered her blade. “How did you come to be here?” 

 “It’s a long story.”

 

* * *

 

 

 I chalked my feelings up to our Force bond, when I learned of it from the Jedi Council on Dantooine. She was a Jedi–and so was I, apparently. And she was also my commanding officer. 

 But still I cared for her. When she spoke of Dantooine as if it were her home, I was drawn to the way her eyes lit up. When she turned to me and smiled, with her “I think you’ll like it here,” my heart melted. 

 I was struck with the urge to kiss her once more. 

 She was a natural teacher, but a terrible student.  She had all the patience in the world when I came to her with genuine questions, and none of it for herself. She was warm, she was gentle, she was kind, and always, always, heartrendingly sincere. But never as kind, never as honest with herself. 

 I thought myself the perfect suitor, knowing when to be courteous and kind with her, and when to press and tease, enjoying how she would snap at me when I got under her skin. I’ve never let her live down my daring ‘rescue’ on Taris, and even when she supposedly would concede that point to me, she would never fail to add “And  _of course_ you could have taken on all of those gangsters who’d turned on you if I hadn’t intervened, Rys. I’m sure it would have been  _quite_ the daring rescue, seeing them tear you limb from limb. But I suppose we’ll never know.’ she’d tease. The great inscrutable Bastila Shan,  _teasing_. “Oh, but my part in the rescue wasn’t the brawl, Bastila. It was what came after. What would you have done, on a foreign, Sith occupied world, the most wanted woman in their empire, with no resources, no friends?” And so we’d argue back and forth, like petulant children. I loved every minute of it. 

And I think I fell more in love with her every day, honestly. 

 She took me aside once, as we were readying to leave the Enclave on our mission. She lectured me on the dangers of the dark side, warned me of how we were all at risk of it, and I most of all. 

 “I will never hurt you, Bastila,” I promised her softly, meaning every word of it, for perhaps the first time in my life. 

 That caught her off guard, and she turned to me, uncertain of what to say, surprised by the sincerity behind the words and verifying it through our bond. 

 “We shall see,” she murmured, almost too quietly for me to hear. 

  _I wanted to take her in my arms, to kiss her slowly and give her all the promises in the world._

**Author's Note:**

> Rys is an exceptionally gay nerd, but yes, Revan can say 'I would never hurt you, Bastila' to her as early as Dantooine. isn't life amazing.
> 
> Also: this will follow/reference the events of 'The Dying Stars', though that particular work isn't past its prologue yet whoops.


End file.
